


Present, Imperfect Tense (But It Gets Better)

by shirogiku



Category: Being Human, Being Human (UK)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Hallucinations, M/M, Minor Character Death, Season/Series 05, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirogiku/pseuds/shirogiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow-up/homage to Shaitanah's <i>Past, Perfect Tense</i>: </p><p>Cutler might only be a hallucination now, but he will <i>never</i> let Hal live down the mashed bananas and the new recruit.</p><p>“Service industry, Hal, is all about <i>not</i> killing the client, no matter how much you want to.” Cutler holds the door open for him. “So, are you absolutely sure this is a good idea?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Present, Imperfect Tense (But It Gets Better)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shaitanah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaitanah/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Past, Perfect Tense](https://archiveofourown.org/works/439035) by [Shaitanah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaitanah/pseuds/Shaitanah). 



> Disclaimer: Being Human belongs to Toby Whithouse and the BBC. Certain lines taken directly from Episode 5x01, “The Trinity”.

This isn’t about rehab anymore. Though for Cutler, it never was.

 

“Hold on, this calls for a drink.” Cutler pours himself some from the bar and toasts at Hal. “Cheers!”

 

Seventy hours, thirty minutes and one second. Just when he thought he was getting better.

 

“I have to say, you’re really rocking that beard.” Cutler's every word is emphasised with a hand flourish as he sidesteps the debris in the living room. “I hear you like Beatles? But then again, you also fancy preaching and martyrdom these days.”

 

Vindictive.

 

“Oh my god, Tom’s a bloody genius!” Cutler claps his hands. “Now I realise my mistake: I should've just locked you up in my basement and fed you mashed bananas until you turned evil again.”

 

A screen in front of him. Or a blindfold.

 

“But you’d still be hearing my voice," the annoying buzzing in his ear points out. "And anyway, it’s not my fault you’re half-Lennon half-mad.” He strolls over to make horns behind Alex's head. Unfortunately, two broken records never cancel each other out.

 

“Hal?” Cutler is frowning. “What is she talking about? Because it certainly sounds like I’ve done her a favour! Freed her from a lifetime of smelly socks!”

 

“If we wanted to _torture_ you, we'd show you the picture of the bathroom,” Alex says.

 

Cutler raises his hand. “Can I show him? Can I? Pretty please? I’d give him a full tour!”

 

“The bathroom, too?” Hal asks, aghast. “You people are animals!”

 

Cutler positions himself on Hal’s lap. “Says Jane Porter – or is that too obscure a reference for you as well?”

 

Tom and Alex exchange glances.

 

“The jury leaves to deliberate,” Cutler announces, watching them retreat to the kitchen. “By the way, those twee round windows remind me of portholes. Why haven’t we ever gone on a cruise, your beardship?”

 

Hal opens his mouth and Cutler shoves the spoon with the mashed bananas in, grinning triumphantly. Hal honestly can’t tell which is worse, Cutler’s drivel or the taste.

 

Cutler leans to Hal’s ear and flicks his tongue over the shell, whispering, “Monkey food, monkey life.”

 

“Get off me, Cutler,” Hal growls under his breath.

 

Cutler laughs. “Or what, Fossey?”

 

They return and offer to let him go. Almost too good to be true. Cutler yells at them, “Newsflash, kiddies – he’s always dangerous!”

 

“There must be a structure,” Hal forces himself to say, tuning out Cutler.

 

“ _Staying clear of bad influence_ ,” Cutler drawls. “This will be so much fun.”

 

* * *

 

Cutler talks almost non-stop through the housecleaning but Hal is focused enough to ignore him.

 

Cutler leans against the sink, playing with the razor. He brings it to Hal’s throat and Hal swats his hand away. “I don’t have time for this, Cutler.”

 

“Oh? What’s the rush?”

 

* * *

 

Hal writes down a new rota.

 

“Why isn’t there a column for me?” Cutler frowns, peering over Hal’s shoulder. “I can put bad milk into tea, puns into ‘punishment’, and, oh, liveblog.”

 

Hal doesn’t even know what that means.

 

“Maybe I’m a ghost vampire now,” Cutler suggests. “Maybe only other vampires can see me. Or maybe it’s Maybelline.”

 

Hal allows himself to acknowledge Cutler’s presence just once, with a pointed look and a, “We cannot risk werewolves and vampires and ghosts being revealed to the world. The consequences could be catastrophic.”

 

“My plan would have worked,” Cutler mutters petulantly. “If you hadn’t ruined everything.”

 

Then Cutler’s face brightens and he laughs at Alex’s comment about the Twilight franchise.  Honestly, it’s like they’re related.

 

“I hate to admit it but I kind of like her sense of humour,”  Cutler says.

 

Hal empathically does not.

 

* * *

 

“Aaah, job hunting!” Cutler cracks his knuckles. “Actually, what _can_ you do? Besides ruining people’s lives?”

 

Tom gives Hal an odd look. Hal doesn’t blame him.

 

“OK, I’ve got it – you should work at a zoo. As one of the exhibits. You can switch with Tom once per month and you can make more like-minded friends. Or you can shovel dung. That seems to be your thing lately.”

 

It’s a long walk to the hotel.

 

“Service industry, Hal, is all about _not_ killing the client, no matter how much you want to.” Cutler holds the door open for him with a faux bellboy expression. “So, are you absolutely this is a good idea?”

 

“Charming,” Cutler says once they're inside, placing his head on Hal’s shoulder. “Can we go kill the decorator now?”

 

Hal grits his teeth. Maybe he could grind them into powder.

 

Cutler whispers into Hal’s ear, “Or maybe we should kill the manager. First, fuck her senseless on her own desk… Like that secretary in my old office.” Cutler trails a finger down Hal’s chest. “Really, do I have to spell everything out for you?” His hand hovers over Hal’s belt buckle.

 

“But really, lady, you don’t want him serving anyone’s drinks,” Cutler says cheerfully as he steps away. " _Ever_."

 

Cutler takes a seat across the table, waving his hand in front of Rook’s face.

 

“Dominic, Dommy, Dom,” Cutler rolls the name on his tongue. “Does that make you the Sub in this budding relationship, Hal? Aww, a Hal on a leash, now that’s what I call excellent taste! Hal, don’t turn this down, it’s the best offer you’ll get.  If I were you, I’d accept it.” That’s because Cutler is an idiot. “The hotel does smell fishy.”

 

“Trust me,” Hal and Cutler say unison. Hal doesn’t hear the rest of Cutler says.

 

"A pity," Cutler comments. "You should have shown him blood isn't the only thing you get off of."

 

As soon as Rook is gone, Cutler gets up, snatching the flask away and twiddling with it, his expression calculating. But then Alex rent-a-ghosts into the chair in front of Hal, making Hal jump up, and Cutler stuffs the flask into Hal’s pocket, clever fingers brushing over where they shouldn’t.

 

Hal can walk away from Alex, but not from what Cutler did.

 

“What are you going to do with the flask, Hal? Play a secret alcoholic? _Oh no, Tom, it’s just cranberry sauce_.”

 

“It is all your fault!” Hal shouts. “ _You_ killed her! Why do I have to answer for your crimes?”

 

Cutler gives him a hard, unimpressed look and Hal remembers it’s not Cutler he’s talking to, not really.

 

“Because…” Cutler snakes his hands around Hal’s neck and presses their foreheads together. “You’re my beloved maker.” He kisses Hal on the lips.

 

Hal pushes Cutler away, takes off at full speed and immediately runs into someone.

 

Hal curses. “ _That_ was definitely your fault, Cutler.” He resumes walking.

 

“Hal, he’s coming back.” Cutler sounds alarmed. “He looks like a regular psycho too. Hal, he wants to murder you with a chainsaw. It’s always the unassuming types.”

 

“Hal? What the hell are you doing?” Cutler’s voice grows high-pitched with hysteria. “Hal, stop running after him! You’re making it worse! Hal, walk away! Oh, for god’s sake… That’s so not how I imagined your first kill! Not after all this time!”

 

“Whoops. Awkward. Hal: 0, the car: 1.” Cutler sits on his haunches beside Hal. “Well, this one’s a goner. You can still drink from him, though. Bring a taste of harassed office worker into your dull life.”

 

Cutler takes Hal’s tightly clenched fist and brings it to his mouth, uncurling Hal’s fingers and licking the blood off. Hal’s eyes flicker black, human, black again and settle on human.

 

Hal’s hand is still shaking. “He’s going to die,” Hal whispers helplessly.

 

“So drink from him before he goes cold,” Cutler says softly. “Haven’t you taught me yourself that drinking from corpses is poor taste?”

 

Hal withdraws his hand, horrified. “I can save him. I can undo this.”

 

“How exactly? By inventing a time machine? Trust me, Mr Wells, I’d be the first one in the line to use it.” Cutler’s eyes widen as the comprehension dawns on him. “Oh, no, no, no, in no fucking way you’re recruiting THAT!”

 

“I don’t have a choice,” Hal whispers listlessly, leaning over the body.

 

Cutler keeps shouting into his ear, “ _You_ don’t have a choice? What about this git?”

 

Hal nudges Cutler away. “You only care about yourself and you’re dead.”

 

“You are _so_ going to regret this.” Cutler gets up, ramming his hands into his pockets. “And I am going to dance around you in circles and sing: “I told you so”. _Fergus_ would laugh his smug arse off. And you know how I love bringing up Fergus.”

 

***

 

Hal goes to check on the new recruit.

 

“Hal. Haaal. Hal, my new baby brother is uglier than a shaved cat with a skin condition. Can we please return him to the store?”

 

 _Cram, like the runner_ , he says.

 

Cutler cuts in, “You mean 'crap'. Like crap. C-r-a-p.” Cutler offers Hal a stake.

 

“Stop that!” Hal snaps and then glances at Cram apologetically. “No, not you.”

 

More accusations.

 

“ _Bummed you_?” Cutler bursts out laughing. “Have you seen yourself in the mirror, mate? Oh, I suppose now you never will. Hal, please put us all out of our collective misery!” He pokes Hal in the ribs with the stake.

 

“Aww, how sweet of you to talk him through this. After handing his soul to the devil on a silver plate. Without asking the fucking question. But, Hal, there’s only one Nick in this room and you’re about to get very sorry about doing this to me.”

 

Cutler clears his throat. Hal tenses.

 

“ _We could have had it aaaaaaaaaaaall, rolling in the deeeeeep-_ “

 

Hal drops the rope. “Fuck! For god’s sake, stop singing!”

 

“He’s bonkers,” Cram mutters pitifully.

 

Cutler grins at Hal.  “Not until you stake him.” Cutler starts moonwalking.

 

Hal slams the door shut behind himself and grabs Cutler by the throat. “What do you think you’re doing, Cutler?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe I’m overcompensating for something – like being dead, for instance?” Cutler reappears behind Hal’s back and pushes at him, slamming him into the wall. “You’re a bloody moron.”

 

Hal snarls and swivels around. “You have to go, Cutler,” Hal says firmly. “I can no longer indulge into this madness.”

 

Cutler disappears and Hal almost hopes. He goes to the living room, only to find Cutler drumming the stake against the bar counter. “Why? Because I’ve made you look bad in front of some bum you picked off the streets?”

 

Hal wanders into the kitchen restlessly and starts doing the dishes to calm himself.

 

Cutler drapes himself over Hal’s back. “Hal, I’m not your biggest problem right now.”

 

Hal blinks and turns off the water, belatedly hearing the front door open in the wrong direction. “Shit!”

 

“Ouch, looks like you haven’t tied him up properly,” Cutler murmurs. "Sloppy."

 

Hal catches up with Cram by the garden gate. He doesn’t remember taking Tom’s stake out of the shrubbery. Cutler seizes Hal’s hand and drives the stake through Cram’s back.

 

Hal collapses to his knees wordlessly. He is still wearing the Marigolds.

 

Cutler pets Hal’s hair and kisses his temple. “Well done, Hal. You’ve made me proud.”


End file.
